


You've Got Whatever's Left Of Me To Get

by professorplum221



Category: The First Law - Joe Abercrombie
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Married Couple, Pregnancy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professorplum221/pseuds/professorplum221
Summary: Scenes from an unexpectedly happy marriage
Relationships: Sand dan Glokta/Ardee West
Kudos: 2





	You've Got Whatever's Left Of Me To Get

**Author's Note:**

> This only draws on the First Law trilogy and contains no spoilers for any of the later books in the same world, because I haven't read them yet! Title ripped off from the lyrics of "Southwood Plantation Road" by the Mountain Goats. Enjoy!

Arch Lector Glokta almost laughed at the irony as he limped away from the Agriont, leaving a distraught Queen Terez behind him. All of this needless negotiation and suffering, just to ensure that the bastard King Jezal would have legitimate heirs. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to most, the king had already fathered one as-yet-unborn child, just prior to his hasty coronation—and of all people, who was the beautiful young mother-to-be waiting for at home but Arch Lector Glokta himself?

"You have strange taste in men, Ardee," he had said to her after the first time she kissed him. "Ah, I know—it must be the scars you like. They give a man an air of danger."  _ Absurd—almost tasteless, even as a joke, to compare my own ruinous visage to that of His August Majesty. Him and the one mark across his jaw that almost serves to make him even more handsome. _

"Exactly. You've found me out," she had replied with a smile. "The more battered and bruised a man is, the more handsome I find him."

"I really must be your ideal match, then."

"You know, in some ways, I think you really are."

Their sex life wasn't without difficulties, of course—the majority of them posed by the innumerable physical ailments of Sand dan Glokta. The chief puzzle that confounded the newlyweds in their bedroom was that of discovering a position that didn't leave him in too much pain or discomfort to take any enjoyment in it. It wasn't long before they discovered that on most days, this limited their options to those in which he could lie still, effectively leaving Ardee to do most of the work.

Glokta knew he was lucky to be able to do that much, and luckier still to have found his way into a surprisingly happy marriage with a woman who didn't seem to mind the inconvenience.  _ Let's be honest—I'm already unbelievably lucky to have any woman touch me at all, let alone fuck me and apparently actually enjoy it. _ And yet, in the throes of it, some primal illogical part of him always felt that it wasn't quite enough. Something about the way the last rays of the dying sunlight through the window hit her body, her breasts shifting slightly with each gentle movement, tempted him to test that luck further.  _ If I lift just one hand, very slowly and carefully, surely I can manage to touch her without—  _

He winced at a twinge of pain in his shoulder, cursing himself for so foolishly pushing the limits of his burdensome body again. At least his wife was already moving to massage the tender muscle before he had even formed the words to tell her what was wrong.  _ I don't deserve this. Any of this. _

_ But since, by some trick of fate, I have it, it only seems reasonable to make the most of it. _

"You have to stop doing that," Ardee admonished him, now seated on the edge of the bed with her hand on his shoulder.

"I know, I know," he murmured, risking a slight tilt of his head to look her in the eye. Fortunately, his neck didn't protest too much this time. "Easier said than done when you're so . . . irresistibly beautiful."  _ How long since I've had cause to use a line like that? _

"I can't help that, I'm afraid. I was simply born that way," she replied with a theatrical toss of her dark hair. "Maybe I'll need to restrain your hands, so that you don't so frequently hurt yourself giving into temptation."

Glokta was about to say no—to bring an immediate and decisive halt to the playful conversation in response to the flash of painful memories it had suddenly brought up. But then, in almost the same instant, he felt a stirring of intrigue and curiosity. He breathed deeply, doing his best to dismiss the dark mental images of his time in captivity.

It wouldn't really be anything like that—not at home, in his bed, with his wife.  _ The happiest place I've ever been, since before. Maybe even including before . . . _

And of course, he reasoned, he could always still change his mind later. He trusted her at least that much.

So instead, after a brief silence, he smiled and asked, "Would you really?"

"I could. If it would really help."

"I have ropes, of course—with the rest of my tools—"

"I'll get them."

She sprung up from the bed and returned not long after, demonstrating an adept skill for navigating the inquisitor's extensive tool kit.  _ She really would make an ideal Practical. Perhaps I should even suggest it to her, after the baby. Imagine—a husband-and-wife duo striking fear into the hearts of all the criminals of Adua. It actually sounds fun. _

"Let me know if any of this is uncomfortable at all," she said as she looped the rope around his wrists and secured them to the bed frame. "That would defeat the whole purpose."

"It's fine," he replied almost too hastily, finding himself unexpectedly impatient, his cock already hardening again at her delicate touch.

She raised her eyebrows in reaction. "I'll get right back to it, then."

His heart almost felt like it would pound out of his chest when she did. Some of that was due to an instinctive fear that he couldn’t fully suppress, even knowing there was nothing to be afraid of—but still more came instead from the still-building pleasure and excitement of not only being with Ardee, but being at her mercy.

He felt his muscles tense involuntarily, his wrists straining against the ropes. It hurt a little bit, but not at all in the same way as the aches and pains that plagued him in his daily life. It was sharper, and more surprising, and somehow much less unwelcome.

The rope digging into his skin, the sensation of giving up control, the sound of his wife's moans growing louder as the warmth of her enveloped him more and more tightly—it was almost too much for one man to take. When all of the tension in his body finally released, it was a moment of sheer bliss, unencumbered by any pain.

Ardee's face was flushed and slick with sweat by the time she untied him. She lay down next to him cautiously, fitting herself into the remaining space on the side of the bed so that he didn’t have to move yet—even as her own condition was beginning to pose a bit of a problem in that regard.

"I suppose this will become difficult for you too soon," Glokta remarked, the weight of the new life she carried resting against his side as she rubbed one of his sore wrists.

"You're right. Maybe we should be doing it even more often while we still can."

Glokta chuckled. "Unfortunately, I think that might literally kill me. Unless that's your plan? You  _ would _ draw quite the pension as the widow of a member of the Closed Council."

Ardee slid her arm around his waist. "I have a feeling I could find at least a few much more efficient methods of murdering you if I really wanted to. But that would certainly be among the better ways to go out, wouldn't it?"

It certainly would. Glokta had dedicated a lot of time in his life to envisioning the form his eventual death might take—probably a lot more time than most other men.  _ Hard to imagine now, but there was a time I was convinced I would one day die in glory on the battlefield. Then I hoped and prayed for death to come for me in my cell. And after that, I expected it to arrive any moment at the hands of an assassin, or perhaps simply on the floor by myself after taking a bad fall . . . _

He had never before considered the possibility that he might one day die in the comfort of his own bed, with his beloved wife at his side.  _ Compared to all the other options, that one almost sounds appealing. _

_ But not quite yet. I have a family to take care of, after all. _


End file.
